Bodies at Rest

I don't normally discuss the performing arts here. I suppose I have too many interests; I just love all the arts. The diversity of topics is what keeps this blog interesting for me, keeps me posting to it, but I guess I figure I have to limit it at least somewhat or...what wouldn't I be discussing on it?

Still, I feel the need to pay my respects to Merce Cunningham. The best connection I can make is I believe dance to be sculpture in motion.

--Photo courtesy New York Times.

Truly he was one of the greatest figures in the entire history of dance. But most pertinently, he was a terribly important thread in a grand web of people, many of whom I would never hesitate to discuss here. Mostly through association with Black Mountain College--an institution that fascinates me every bit as much as the Bauhaus--his circle included some of the greatest luminaries of creative thought of the entire century. John Cage, first of all, whose 4'33" is arguably the most important piece of music ever composed; Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg, Philip Johnson onto Mies van der Rohe and presumably countless other great minds who met for afternoon tea at the Glass House; by Cage through Richard Lippold to Walter Gropius; Buckminster Fuller, Andy Warhol, Frank Stella, the Immortal Brian Eno. And all of them on top of Graham, Tharp, Robbins, Balanchine, Baryshnikov, and all the other obvious cast members.

I'm tempted to wonder if the New York scene will ever be like that again. In his own way he was a crucial hub in that vast network.

It almost seems a little spooky to me that Cunningham had only so recently settled his estate. Loved ones had in his last few days had the chance to visit and bid him farewell. Clearly he knew the end was near. He was still choreographing, at least in his mind.

For me, from a linguistic vantage point, I've often been fascinated by the way dance is notated, particularly where it might concern Rudolf Laban, who I'd love to read if his out-of-print writings weren't $400 a used copy--I'll just have to suck it up and visit the library. It's probably the most fleeting and ethereal of all the art forms. So I was quite fascinated by a trial version of DanceForms, the choreography software Cunningham helped to develop. I played around with it for a short while to get a handle on how it works, but I've got way too many other things to worry about to create a revolution in dance at this point. I've got a lot of it in my head, though. Like I said: too many interests.

The creative world has lost one of its brightest stars. I do hope there will be Cunningham retrospectives from all the great dance companies in the coming year.

Merce Cunningham

1919-2009

R.I.P.

©2009, Ryan Witte

Adssassinations

I recently came across some of the most brilliant work I've seen in a long time--unfortunately not in person, but I've had my eyes peeled since. I described him elsewhere as a "guerrilla collagist," and he goes by the alias, Poster Boy. 

Self-Portrait 2, all works shown here circa early 2008

I thought he'd be a great person to interview, and I was right; I found him to be an exceptionally eloquent conversationalist, as you'll see. Coincidentally, his work and some of the things we discussed are surprisingly timely in regards to the controversial arts funding in the government bailout and other things I've been talking about here. In addition, though it was wholly unintentional, Public Art has become a bit of a recurring subject here on Architextures. I've expressed my adamant support for those doing public art and why in previous posts, but I do consider it a noble cause. For your enjoyment, here's my interview with Poster Boy.

Self-Portrait

Ryan Witte: My first question has to be, are you the real Poster Boy, or are you an imPoster?

Poster Boy: Everyone has a little Poster Boy in them. Some have more than others.

RW: Because of a couple of clues, I have this suspicion that you went/go to the School of Visual Arts, where I went to college. You don't need to comment on that, but was/is there anything about the institution of college you think was/is not what it should have been?

Gov't Cheese

PB: You have a good eye for detail. I'm assuming you're referring to the "irony" note on one of the flickr shots. Tuition is a bitch and the text books are the overpriced heels she dons (I'm trying to be funny, not sexist). But it should come as no surprise because the educational system is a business operating within a capitalist framework. I don't think I was ever aware or prepared for that stark reality. Even though there are many things I'd have liked to change, there is nothing I regret. Everything I've been through has lead me to where I am.

RW: Normally I'd ask about an artist's studio or materials, but that doesn't really apply to you. Are you restricted by the time of day? In other words, I imagined that the best time to do what you do would be at three or four in the morning, not when I'd feel terribly productive, myself. You also seem to choose some fairly busy subway stops. Do you otherwise tend to like out-of-the-way stops that don't see a lot of foot traffic?

Poor, Odors, and Mind Your Manners

PB: I don't have the time or the desire to be roaming around the underground during the wee hours of the morning. I've done many pieces during rush hour. It's easier to blend in when people are around you. There are some great out-of-the-way stops, but then you reduce the chance for people to appreciate the physical pieces.

Not a Movie

RW: How do the cops act, usually?

PB: They never get to see the magic happen, and I never stay long enough for their reaction.

NY Fart-a-Thon

RW: Have you had other people stand around and watch or do they mostly just give you a look and then go on with their commute?

PB: Some laugh. Some grimace. Most stand around and watch until their train arrives.

RW: Do some stops seem to get ads you like better than others?

Bushwick

PB: Not really, but I do notice that all the Equinox gym ads are in Manhattan. It's understandable. None of my friends in Bushwick have a membership.

Rubbish Removed

RW: Some might suggest that unless a work of art gets seen by an audience, it fails to ever really become alive, and that the larger that audience is, the more profound an affect or influence the work can have on our culture. On top of that, your work is inherently temporary, destined to be removed or destroyed. 

PB: I agree. I'd even go so far as to say that the viewer makes it art, not the artist.

RW: Approaching the visual arts as a form of communication, as I most certainly do, I'd have to think you're right. Of course, we then run into the problem that many viewers of abstract art, for instance, and for sure graffiti, have immediately made the judgement "that's not art." Possibly what they really mean, though, is that the piece isn't communicating with them, for whatever reason.

PB: Therein lies the beauty of art. The work exists as art to some but not others. However, both are right. Who am I to say the naysayers are wrong? If it isn't art to them then it isn't art. But as long as there's one person that believes it to be art then it exists as art. Once in a while there comes an artist that convinces most. Only time will tell what kind of artist, if any, Poster Boy is.

Your Mom Is Anti-Painting

RW: So where would you draw the line between becoming a tool of the commercial gallery art world and the importance that could have for carving out a place for yourself in the History of Art over the long term?

PB: On a long enough timeline, everyone disappears--some faster than others. The same applies to the artwork. You can use the best archival materials and techniques, but in the end it doesn't matter. I've always been impatient, so why not toss or recycle the work immediately? Our obsession with hoarding and amassing material objects stems from our fear of death and mistrust of nature. Besides, there's enough shit out there collecting dust. I would, literally, draw a line over [Takashi] Murakami's head.

RW: It's true that physical media has always been unavoidably degradable. But you bring up an interesting point here, because I'm tempted to wonder, in the Information Age, if anything ever disappears. I think of digital images, hosted and re-hosted, emailed and forwarded and hosted again, from network to network. If it were an embarrassing shot of me caught with my pants down, I'd fear it would exist forever in cyberspace. Even three-dimensional objects can be scanned, mapped extremely accurately, and converted into virtual objects composed of information, which conceptually, can never degrade.

PB: Doesn't virtual media rely on physical contrivances? 

RW: Well, yes, of course, although I suppose I mean that the internet as a whole entity doesn't really have a physical presence locatable in space. It only really exists as digital information floating around.

PB: Even the most sophisticated devices are subject to the laws of the universe. I'm no techie, but I'm sure there are, or will be, viruses that will introduce Murphy's Law to the virtual world. As for the "picture" with your pants down: it might outlive you, but as long as you had fun, who cares?

RW: I always try to be having fun when I have my pants down.

Suits

Does a work of art lose its integrity when it becomes a product and a commodity?

PB: It depends on the intentions of the artist and the taste of the viewer. If the sole intention of the artist is to make money, then commodification is desirable. The art is then a product, subject to supply and demand like any other market. Does it lose its integrity? That's up to the viewer.

RW: I have to believe everyone has a "price."

PB: You have the right to believe anything you want.

Enough Ads

RW: If some big, fat advertising agency said you could name your fee--any amount you want--to design a campaign for them, would you do it?

PB: I've had several very fat ad agencies approach me in hopes of marketing Poster Boy. Let's just say I won't be getting that follow-up interview. I'm willing to work with anyone, but on my own terms. I would love to work with those big wigs. My ideal campaign would be to light every billboard on fire for a new line of bullshit energy drinks. I can see the headlines now: "Advertising Genius or Asshole Arsonist?"

RW: [LOL] Not a fan of the energy drinks, huh?

New World (tap) Water

PB: Not a big fan of stuff I don't need.

Mossy Tiles 2

RW: What if the MTA asked you to do a mosaic scheme for the renovation of a station?

PB: ...I might do it, but it wouldn't be done as Poster Boy.

RW: How do you feel about Tom Otterness' sculptures at the Fourteenth Street station?

PB: I think they're very comforting. I found myself sitting on his "feet" many times while waiting for the A, C, E. I'm still waiting for him to design trains so they look like something out of Alice in Wonderland.

Corporate Talent

RW: One of your biggest targets seems to be the garbage foisted on us by Hollywood and mainstream television. If you go to the movies or get a DVD, what do you watch?

PB: Since I don't watch TV or listen to the radio, I usually go by word-of-mouth. I'm a sucker for a good love story and I like Campy, but I absolutely love bad movies. There's nothing better than laughing at scenes that aren't supposed to be funny. And remember, support your local movie pirate/bootlegger.

RW: Love stories are a bit of a surprise.

PB: People wouldn't normally associate Love with the kind of work Poster Boy produces. That mentality is part of what I'm challenging. In actuality, Love plays a huge role in what I do. Love is what gives me the courage to go out and make work regardless of the consequences. In a time when oligarchies are controlling the masses with fear, we have to realize that love for ourselves and our fellow man/woman is the only way to become free.

RW: That's a beautiful sentiment, really, and no doubt true. 

Rated-RO

I'm also not going to touch your piracy statement, but oh boy, do I ever love me some bad movies. Did you ever see Robot Monster? That one is so deliciously awful.

PB: Never seen Robot Monster, but I'm already digg'n the title. I'll have to check it out.

BS Media

RW: How are we brainwashed?

PB: Christ, where do I start? I'll just say that the plantation has grown exponentially since slavery. We're whipped by the media and our minds are shackled.

RW: Come on now, let's be honest; you don't trust the media, do you? 

Toulouse-Lautrec or Andy Warhol?

PB: Can't beat Lautrec's elegance, but Warhol gave the best interviews.

RW: I can totally hear his answers to some of my long-winded questions above: "Sure." "Yeah." "Okay."

Same Shit

Communism or Anarchism?

PB: Whichever allows us to coexist with the rest of planet earth.

It's Britney, Bitch!

RW: Are you the future of graffiti art?

PB: I'm content with being the present.

RW: [LOL] Great answer. 

If you've seen people's reactions to your pieces without them knowing you're the artist responsible...

PB: Yes...

RW: What's been the best reaction so far?

Piss Water

PB: The double-take during rush hour is always nice.

RW: Thanks for taking the time out for the interview, it's been very interesting speaking with you!

Nano After

©2009, Ryan Witte

The interview above is not intended to imply that the author endorses unlawful behavior.

1964

My latest field trip was right out here in Queens.  First stop was the Jackson Diner, which I'd heard was one of the best Indian restaurants in all of New York City.  It really was pretty phenomenal food and I definitely recommend the trip.  It's only a couple blocks from the subway station, so very easy.  We drove, however, and they were having an Indian street fair along 74th Street which made finding a parking spot extremely difficult.  It was crazy, and we were like the only non-Indian people on the entire block.  Indian rap music.  Need I say more?

What I'm posting about today, though, is Flushing Meadows Park.  I had three chief destinations on my mind: the New York State Pavilion, the Unisphere, and the Hall of Science.

Robert Moses just LOVED this park, for some reason, so it has such an illustrious past.  It was one of the last truly beautiful Sunday afternoons of the summer, too, so there were thousands of people there, playing all kinds of sports and so on.

Speaking of which, it was kind of cool to see the old Shea Stadium by Praeger-Kavanaugh-Waterbury:

--Photo courtesy Virtual Bird's Eye.

And right next to it is the new CITIField, still under construction:

--Photo courtesy The Wayward Oriole.

It's by the absolute leaders in stadium architecture, HOK Sport.  I couldn't really care much less about baseball, and I don't really keep up all that much with stadium architecture, but HOK is awesome, and the new building is quite beautiful:

--Image courtesy Curbed.

We arrived on the Eastern edge of the park, right by the big indoor swimming pool, the very recently completed Aquatic Center by Handel Architects:

As you can see, the free-span roof is suspended by cables from giant soaring masts.  It looks vaguely, appropriately nautical, but more interestingly, it's quite clearly a nod to the New Jersey State Pavilion by Collins, Uhl & Hoisington from the 1964 World's Fair, which had tent-like canopies hung from giant masts.  It's very difficult to find photos of it, but you can see it at bottom left here:

At $66.3-million dollars, it was the most expensive public pool ever built in a city park.  A third of the pool has a moveable floor which can change the depth from a couple inches to over seven feet.  Very high-tech.  

--Photo courtesy NYC Parks & Recreation.

If public pools didn't gross me out so much, I might think a membership sounded like a nice idea.  It's not even so much all the gallons of pee, although that's bad enough, really it's the snot.  Snot has actual texture to it.  Okay, I have to stop talking about that now.

We could see the Unisphere from there, but it was obviously about a mile off.  I didn't mind the walk, but the walk back to the car might have been a trek.  So we got back in the car and drove around to it.  We actually first got to Queens Theater-in-the-Park (quite comically abbreviated "Q-TiP").  The Theaterama was originally by Philip Johnson and is very deliciously 1960s Space Age:

--Photo courtesy disneydreamer12.

The towers were added in 1991 and it got a very cool renovation/ expansion by Caples Jefferson Architects in 2008:

--Photo courtesy e-Oculus.

And of course, right next to it is Johnson's magnificent New York State Pavilion:

Now, I'm not going to go on and on about the NYSP because it already has a lot of status as a cult icon, evidenced by the site where many of these images are found, Tent of Tomorrow.  I do love the fact that its floor was a mosaic of New York State, and I love this campy photo from National Geographic:

--Courtesy bobster1985.

I'm sure it didn't go this way, but I love imagining Robert Moses demanding with maniacal delight it be showcased how he was going to make the entire State of New York into one giant highway.  I also LOVE the Andy Warhol story.  Johnson asked a bunch of artists to create works for the building, Rosenquist, Rauschenberg, Lichtenstein, Kelly.  Warhol contributed a silkscreen of the men on the NYC Police Department's most wanted list.  The state thought it would earn lawsuits, so Warhol offered to replace it with twenty-five photos of Moses with a big evil smile on his face.  Awesome!  They decided to just paint over the most wanted guys with silver paint, unfortunately.

I was most interested to really see it up close once and for all, though, because I've gotten to know the New York State Theater so very well:

--Photo by Burdettekevin.

State Theater is currently under a major renovation.  Three main things: making it entirely ADA compliant, replacing all the seat cushions--changed to velour in 1982--with plush Mohair like they were when it was first built, and drastically enlarging the orchestra pit.  It's made possible by a huge donation from David Koch ("coke"), who owns Koch Industries, so in another year or two it will actually be renamed the David H. Koch Theater.  State Theater was originally supposed to be built in Flushing Meadows Park, but Lincoln Center was underway, so they built it there instead, and Lincoln Center became the official "Performing Arts Branch" of the fair.  So I needed a better picture in my mind of how it all fit together.

It really is such a shame what's happened to the Pavilion.

--Courtesy ToT.

I did notice there have been plans to turn it into an Air & Space Museum with a design by Frankie Campione of CREATE, which I think is a totally acceptable transformation, quite appropriate in fact:

In the meantime, I'm sure those steel cables that originally held up the fabric roof are nearly rusted away.  The whole thing is probably a deathtrap.  Nevertheless, "eyesore" is entirely unfair.  This really is one of the most beautiful ruins of our recent architectural past.  It would be so wonderful to be able to walk around inside it, and I seriously doubt I'm alone in thinking so.  But it's completely gated off and locked up.  I really do believe without too much trouble they could get a welder or two to go up and make sure none of the cables are realistically due to break anytime soon, just slap on a bolt or whatever to reinforce any that are, and have somebody take a half hour to sweep up any broken glass off the floor.  Athens doesn't care that the Parthenon has no roof, I don't think this is any different.

Next we walked over to the Unisphere designed by Gilmore D. Clarke:

--Photo by Yavoh.

Of course I'd been to the Unisphere before, and the pool may even have been empty at the time.  But I don't think I ever walked right up to it, under and around it and really studied it before.  I never quite registered that the topology is rendered in three dimensions with layers of steel.  I also noticed this time that the rings orbiting around it are held in place by thin steel cables and nothing else.  You can see if you click the image, it's large; there's no solid steel bars holding them on there.  We were trying to figure out if they actually represent something, like perhaps the orbit of the moon, because I was almost certain they must.  We couldn't quite figure it out, not being astronomers.  Evidently they represent the first man in space (Yuri Gagarin), the first man to orbit the earth (John Glenn), and the first active satellite (Telstar).

The steel for the Unisphere was donated by U.S. Steel, which for many years was headquartered in the iconically triangular U.S. Steel Building in Pittsburgh, designed by Harrison & Abramovitz (I mention them for a reason) in 1970:

--Photo by Derek Jensen.

Now known as the USX Tower, it's the tallest building in Pittsburgh, is one of the city's key landmarks, and it used an innovative system of water-filled steel columns as a fire safety measure.  There was a super fancy restaurant called Top of the Triangle on the 62nd floor where I got to put on my nicest outfit and have a very special dinner for my 10th birthday (or however old I was).  I just discovered that it closed down in 2001, which is kind of sad.

As we walked back from the Unisphere, I remarked that I didn't know a park could be so LOUD.  It was radio controlled cars.  This has seriously got to be the coolest nerdy hobby ever.  Like these guys build their own RC cars from scratch, tweak and modify them, and race them.  They literally go about 30mph or even faster.  They have a table set up where they have all these cars, doing tune-ups and whatever.  

--Photo courtesy Hacked Gadgets.

It's really cool, and I almost wish I were more technically/ electronically inclined to take it up...or had the time to waste on something like that.

Beautifully sited off to the west of the Unisphere is the New York City Building by Aymar Embury:

Conceived so it could later be used as a roller skating or ice rink:

And now houses the Queens Museum of Art:

--All three photos courtesy Bridge and Tunnel Club.

I believe it's the only building still standing from the 1939 World's Fair.  That's sort of unfortunate, because it would be extremely difficult to decide which of the two fairs was the most ridiculously fabulous.  The 1939 was essentially Walt Disney's sole inspiration for EPCOT Center, the General Motors Futurama exhibit by Norman Bel Geddes was an absolutely legendary milestone, and it had work by Wallace Harrison, Edward Durrell Stone, Oscar Niemeyer, Alvar Aalto, William Lescaze, Henry van der Velde, and Salvador Dali.  

Possibly my favorite from the first one, though, is the National Cash Register Building by Ely Jacques Kahn, which would tally the number of visitors to the fair:

--This is actually the one built for the San Francisco exposition that same year.  It may or may not be by Kahn, but it's almost exactly the same structure.  There was another practically identical one built for the Texas Centennial Exposition.  Photo courtesy CSU Fresno.

Evidently, the Queens Museum is getting a big renovation, as well, by Grimshaw Architects:

We then got back into the car.  I knew vaguely where Harrison & Abramovitz' Hall of Science was, because I'd seen the top of it poking up out of some trees.  As OBSESSED as Robert Moses was with the automobile, I will have to say this park is one of the most difficult places to navigate by vehicle that I have ever seen.  The main problem is that the Long Island Expressway chops the park in two, separating the Hall of Science from everything else.  But more than that, the arrangement of the roadways defies any and all common sense or logic.  To eventually get in one direction, you invariably have to turn at an intersection in the complete opposite direction.  Then the roadway will oddly bring you around to where you wanted to be.  But by turning in the direction you want to go, you end up someplace else altogether.  Confused yet?  So were we.  On top of that, we ended up on roadways with no signs or roadblocks to tell us otherwise that ultimately looked very, very much like there was not supposed to be cars on them, and made a lot of U-turns.

Finally we got frustrated and gave up and left the park, coming around at it from the western end.  This is, in fact, where the Hall of Science is.

--Photo courtesy Andy's World's Fair Index.

--Photo courtesy DK Images.

I think it's gorgeous, like a giant piece of paper rolled up, unfurled, and stood on its side.  The walls are lined with chips of blue glass.

--Photo courtesy ArchNewsNow.

This one got a renovation by Polshek Partnership Architects in 2004, and I think they did quite a nice job with it:

--Photo by yl.

It was also intended to stay standing after the fair was over.  It's still running as a science museum.  It's mostly for kids, I'm sure, but I definitely want to go back and see it on the inside.  It was about 5PM when we got there, and the doors were already locked.  It's kind of a shame a similar fate wasn't in store for the IBM Pavilion designed by Eero Saarinen and Charles & Ray Eames (they were all friends):

--Photos courtesy Kevin Roche John Dinkeloo, who were, of course, Saarinen's successors.

Right next to the Hall of Science is this very interesting sculpture called "Forms in Transit" by Theodore Roszak:

--Photo courtesy BaTC.

What's really interesting about it, and I think it may be lost on most people, is that it appears to be corroded.  That is, if you just glance at it quickly, it looks like it's so rusted that it's about to fall apart.  But if you really look at it closely, it becomes obvious first of all that the "corrosion" is of a severity it would take 3000 years to form, never 50.  Secondly, the pattern and location of the texture makes it very unlikely to have been the result of the elements.  In other words, if caused by rain, you expect to see streaks from flowing water in very specific places.  This is different.  The texture of it looks almost like the surface of the moon or some foreign heavenly body.  It was obviously intended to allude to space travel.  It's a very cool piece.

The last thing we saw, which I had seen many times before, but had forgotten about it until I was out there, is the Port Authority Building by A. Gordon Lorimer:

--Photo by Bill Cotter.

It had a heliport on the roof for the wealthy people to arrive at the fair by helicopter and had a sort of restaurant/ cafeteria type of thing below.  It still says "Terrace on the Park" on it.  I have no idea if it's still operating as a catering hall; it appears it is, but it looks a wreck.  The windows are all cracked and broken and boarded up and look like nobody's washed them for about two decades.

  

--Photo courtesy BaTC.

Also a shame because it's a rather cool, futuristic building.  Either way, the interiors are super tacky:

That is SO Queens.  

1960s hypermodern meets...Newport, Rhode Island on crack?  Whaaaa?  I...don't...get...it.

All in all I will say it's a very nice park.  It really provides all the kinds of spaces for play and promenade that a park thrives on to be vibrant and active.  Then there are destinations and activities to find, and all these sort of derelict follies to discover like hidden treasures.  I wouldn't mind wandering around there some more.

©2008, Ryan Witte